Something Lost, Something Gained
by tampoposensei
Summary: Kakashi meets Iruka, with a different twist. Not soft and fluffy. This was supposed to be strictly a oneshot, but somehow it spawned a sequel. And now a second sequel, the lemony conclusion.
1. Something Lost Something Gained

The silver haired man woke up, all at once, with total awareness of his surroundings. For some reason he felt that was good, the way it should be. Despite the searing pain in his left eye. He covered it with his hand and examined the room one-eyed. The room was small and white, all white like the inside of a glacier, and with as much warmth. Not that it was cold, but the air had a dead, climate controlled, filtered, quality. He was lying on a white, plastic covered mattress in a corner of the room. A padded cell. Somehow he knew that was what it was, although he was fairly sure that he'd never seen one before.

The front wall of the room was a single expanse of glass with a sturdy steel door on one side. He couldn't see through it well because the room he was in was brightly lit, and the corridor beyond was dim by comparison. The silhouette of a man, seated on a chair, was just visible on the other side of the glass. Standing a little shakily, he walked over to the glass wall.

"Do you know who you are?"

The man had spoken to him on the other side of the glass but his voice came from a speaker set high on the wall behind them both. He spun around towards the source of the sound automatically, before turning back to look more closely at the man. By pressing himself against the transparent wall he could make out his features quite clearly: dark heavily scarred face, cloth-covered head, and almost black imperturbable eyes.

"Who do you expect me to be?"

"I asked first."

"You're the one who wants an answer."

The man stood up. He was tall, solid, a force to be reckoned with.

"I need to know what you know, before I tell you anything. If you're honest with me then I'll tell you everything."

He felt dizzy, drugged. Walking back to the mattress he sat down on it clumsily, still facing the man. It didn't shift as he lowered his weight onto it, as if it was glued securely to the floor.

"Will you tell me why I'm a prisoner here?"

The man sat back into his chair.

"You aren't a prisoner. When you first regained consciousness you were… violent. We had to restrain you and this is the safest place. You won't be able to hurt yourself here."

So they already knew that he was dangerous, pity.

"You mean I won't be able to hurt you."

"Yes that too. Now will you answer my question?"

He lay down. Sitting upright was too taxing.

"Which one?"

"Do you know who you are?" The man repeated.

"Yes." He lied.

"Will you tell me?"

"No."

"Is there someone you _will_ tell?"

He paused deliberately, as if giving the question due consideration.

"No."

"Why not?"

"In case _you_ aren't who I think you are." He closed his eyes, they hurt in the bright light and made him tired, especially the left one. "I'm going to sleep some more."

There was a grunt from the speaker on the wall as he allowed the darkness to swallow him into an uncomfortable, restless sleep.

The scarred man was joined by a woman, who's eyes betrayed wisdom far beyond her apparent age.

"So Ibiki-san, what do you think?

"He's too good, makes it impossible to tell. He's acting like someone with no memory at all, but that's exactly how he would behave if he thought he was a prisoner being pumped for information. Always was paranoid as hell and he must know that he's been sedated." The interrogator rubbed the taut scarred skin on his face. "Any progress with an antidote?

Tsunade shook her head. "The trace of poison in his blood and on his fingers isn't enough to analyse. We'll have to see if Gai and team 7 can find the needle. Easier to find one in a haystack. Go and get some rest Ibiki, I'll have someone else watch him for a while. We'll wake you up if there's anything new."

When he woke up again it was because there was someone in the room with him. He lashed out a hand at lightning speed and grabbed a wrist. The movement provoked an anxious hiss.

"Hatake-san, please let go. If anyone finds me in here with you they'll be hell to pay."

He was holding the right arm of a dark haired man, who was kneeling next to him, holding a gauze pad in his right hand.

"I just wanted to tape this over your eye. You seemed so uncomfortable and I know you always keep it covered."

He looked at the white muslin pad, in the brown hand, in his white fingers, and slowly released his grip. The man took a sharp intake of breath then slowly withdrew a reel of surgical tape from his jacket pocket with his other hand. He held it up for him to see, then very gently taped the pad over his left eye. It _was_ more comfortable, a blessed relief in fact, as the pain gradually subsided. Now he could focus the other eye better. The man had kind, soft brown eyes and his hair was tied in a high bushy ponytail. There was a single horizontal scar across his face, an unusually pleasant face.

"But won't they know anyway, that you did this? When they see?"

The man chuckled, a throaty mischievous sound.

"Yes. But once they see that you feel better and you haven't escaped, or killed me, or anything, I'm hoping that the Hokage will let me off with nothing worse than a stern lecture about being so stupid."

He grabbed both tan hands in his, forcing the man to lean over him, very close. So close that he could feel the heat of his body through his simple paper-like jumpsuit, the only thing he was wearing. The dark haired man blushed, intensifying the heat deliciously.

"What makes you think I won't escape, or kill you, or… anything?"

He watched soft lips moving and felt hot breath against his face as the other replied. His voice calm and gentle.

So he hadn't picked up on the implications in that last word.

"Because I trust you. You can't open the door unless I tell you the seals and I don't believe that you're willing to hurt me to get them."

No, not hurt. He had an almost overwhelming desire to see that pretty face flushed with pleasure. A few inches closer and he'd be able to dart his agile tongue between those tempting lips. He released one wrist and traced a forefinger over the scar. Then he licked his finger and traced it across the full lower lip, which trembled slightly in response. In two moves he could have this sweet thing face down beneath him, stripped almost naked.

He sat up, forcing the man to sit on the floor next to him and pushing the temptation further away. Then he released him to feel the pad over his eye.

"Why didn't the others do this, if they know it hurts."

The man was shaking, but not in fear. "They wanted to but weren't sure how. They were afraid you might use an eye patch or a bandage as a weapon, or a noose. I cut up the gauze into little pieces and wadded them up, even you would have a hard time joining them back together."

So he was resourceful as well as kind.

"Will you tell me your name?"

"I… I'm not allowed to do that, to give you any information. You're very clever, you would use that information to trick us into thinking you're ok when you're not. And that could be dangerous… for everyone."

"You know a lot about me, do I know you?"

The man blushed deeper. "No."

So he wanted him to. He brushed the back of a pale hand against a hot cheek. "Then I'd like to, I'd like it a lot."

"I… I shouldn't be in here. Will you turn around so that I can open the door?"

Damn, he'd come on too strong too fast. He turned to face the back wall of his cell and waited until he'd heard a door open and close again before turning back. The drugged feeling had eased but he was still weak, and his coordination was shot. He lay down and slept deeply.

Ibiki came to take over a few hours later.

"Did he wake up at all?"

"Yes, we had a brief conversation but I didn't tell him anything."

The silver haired man was woken by the whispering and sat up suddenly. He recognised both voices.

"My name's Hatake."

Ibiki spun around to face him. "Do you remember?"

"No. I don't remember anything, your friend let it slip when I startled him."

Ibiki shot a look at the man beside him and shook his head slowly.

"Why are you willing to admit this now?"

"Because I can tell that he trusts you, and I trust him. He put this on my eye, said I usually keep it covered."

Ibiki looked from one to the other while _he_ grasped _all_ the implications.

He snorted. "I'm surprised he didn't cover your face for you too."

The younger man blushed, he seemed to do that a lot. It was cute.

"Er, you usually wear a mask. I've never seen your face before, hardly anyone has."

His pale hands leapt to his face, covering his cheeks. "Am I that ugly?"

The young man laughed, an explosive happy sound, even better than the blush.

"Hell hardly." He shot him a glance, ripe with meaning… and possibility. Then scooped up a pile of papers from next to the chair, laughter still dancing in his eyes. "Well I'd better get going, wouldn't do for _me_ to be late."

The stern scarred man turned back to him. "You were poisoned, some kind of neurotoxin. Obviously your memory is for shit, but we don't know what else. We're working on an antidote."

He lay back down on the uncomfortable bed. "Hmm, that would explain why I can't stay awake."

The next time he woke it was in the stale antiseptic air of the hospital. He could feel the secure restraints around his wrists, ankles and chest. So they still didn't trust him, he really couldn't blame them. His eyes blinked open.

"Is Naruto ok? He didn't get hit did he?"

Tsunade's voice came from beside him. "He's fine Hatake, you didn't let your comrade die. You caught the needle and killed the assassin. If the poison that went through your skin did this much damage, a hit would have been lethal." She paused. "Can you remember now."

"Yes."

He could, everything. His team had been looking for a lost diamond ring in the forest when they'd run into a missing Cloud nin, who'd hurled a handful of needles. One had headed straight towards the startled boy. The skin still seemed to tingle between his middle two fingers where he'd caught it. He smiled, D class missions weren't supposed to be so hazardous, but a ninja's life was full of uncertainty.

"That's good. I don't see any signs of permanent damage so you should make a full recovery very soon. All you have to do is rest. Is there anything you would like us to get you?"

She started to unlock the restraints.

He was still sorting through his recent memories. Another, fonder smile curled his lips as he reached up and touched the fresh bandage over his left eye.

"Yes there is. Would you ask Umino Iruka to visit when he has time? I'd really like to see him again."


	2. The Sounds of Falling Water

Hatake Kakashi sat on the grey wooden bench in the hospital's courtyard garden, the one and only place in the whole damn complex where he could stand to be for any length of time. For here the smell of disinfectant, of blood, and the sour undertones of stale urine and sweat, were far enough away to keep his stomach from wanting to heave.

Taking a lungful of morning air he smoothed the rough cotton hospital blanket, which had obviously been boiled just a few too many times, over his lap. More to cover his naked legs than for the sake of any warmth it offered. Three more days.

He was here to rest, so he was resting. Obediently obeying orders as he had his whole life, and would until the day he died. Resting to recover and refine his edge, to become once again the sharp and deadly tool that his village required him to be.

He focused his attention back on the central feature of the garden, and the one that drew him here time after time. It was a small koi pond, littered with blossoming lotuses and fed by a bamboo pipe fountain. Water from the pipe spilled over tiers of cobbles, splashing and gurgling until it reached its level, spreading as bright ripples across the surface of the pond.

Kakashi had always loved the sounds of falling water, from the roar of mighty waterfalls in the mountains and the crash of raging torrents they fed, to the patter of rain on the leafy canopy of Konoha's forests. Water that brought life to the fields. That washed even the most sullied landscape clean turning ash and blood to nothing more than fertilizer. And that slowly but surely carved the whole wide world into a design of its own unfathomable desires.

The little fountain seemed to have been designed to create the sounds of a mountain brook. And it almost did. Some of the deeper notes were missing and the tinkle was a little too repetitive, but still, it was pleasantly tranquil and soothing. Now if only he had his book.

He didn't look up as he felt the man enter the courtyard, nor as he stood and bowed politely before him.

The voice was the one he'd been, well maybe not expecting, but definitely hoping to hear.

"You wanted to see me Hatake-san? Are you quite recovered now?"

Keeping his gaze hidden in the double shadow of his hair and the overhanging willow, he patted the worn wood beside him and touched the bandage over his left eye with his other hand.

"Yes. Well still weak but at least I can remember everything, and I wanted to thank you, for this." He stole a fleeting glance at Umino Iruka's pretty face as the teacher sat and turned slightly towards him. "It was kind of you, and thoughtful."

He swiveled to meet the other's eyes square on.

"Is that the way you are Iruka-sensei? Kind and thoughtful?"

The teacher blushed, as delightful as in his memory, and lifted his hand to rub at the heated skin of his scar.

"No, that is… you were clearly confused, and in so much pain. I just…"

Kakashi grabbed the tanned hand and relished the sensation of seeing those fingers trapped in his for a second time.

"Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all… to repay your kindness?"

The other man lowered his hand, but didn't try to pull it away. The single word was as soft and light as the touch of a feather.

"No."

They sat side by side, each keeping his breathing measured, each suppressing the emotions roiling within, as seconds stretched into minutes.

Eventually Iruka broke the silence, obviously fighting furiously for control of his features.

"That is unless… can I… can I see it?"

Kakashi smirked wickedly under his mask.

"Of course Umino-san, you only had to ask."

He spread his thighs a little and started to peel back the blanket.

"No!" Iruka slammed his hand onto the other man's lap to stop him. Then jerked it away just as fast when it landed on something unexpectedly hard. Or had it been quite so unexpected?

To Kakashi's immense gratification the battle was lost and the blush was back, deepened to a crimson glow.

"No, I'm sorry. I meant your face. Can I see it again? Please?"

Kakashi pulled down his mask and moved in close, so close that their breath met and wafted over flushed lips, hot and moist in the cool shade.

"Ah, but for this I'll want another favour."

The reaction was better than he dared hope. With a strangled gasp, Iruka raised both hands to trace over his jaw, his nose, the fine contours of his cheeks, as if he couldn't trust the evidence of just one of his senses.

"Oh God you are… I though perhaps I'd just imagined…"

Kakashi remained completely still, letting him linger, enjoying his touch and his little noises of appreciation much more than he knew he should. It was good, so good, but he wanted more and he knew how to get it.

"Iruka-sensei, when they took away my clothes they took my book. Would you track it down for me?"

The hands flew away and remained palms out, fingers spread.

"No! That's outrageous. I can't. I won't encourage that kind of thing."

Kakashi half lowered his eyelid and peeped out from beneath it, while his unmasked lips pointed into an unmistakable pout.

"But now you owe me a favour, although I suppose I could ask the kids…"

He swallowed his chuckle in favour of feigned innocence as Iruka leapt to his feet, his face red with fury.

"Don't you dare! If I find that Naruto... or…or the others have been reading…"

The enforced rest had been good for him. Even he was impressed by the speed with which he had his visitor pinned into the corner of the courtyard, hidden from view by the low spread of the tree. He pulled the tie from the teacher's hair, releasing it to spill around his face.

"You see… I want to find out what happens next."

The glow of Iruka's eyes burned out from under the dark veil. But the anger in his voice had been replaced by another, huskier, emotion.

"Hatake-san, did you ask me here to seduce me?"

Perceptive.

"Not necessarily… that is unless…"

He leaned in, pressing his captive against the wall, sweeping his tongue across those enticing lips and sucking in the lower one as it trembled in response. Having won his objective he exploited it ruthlessly, plundering the other's mouth, searching the sweetest deepest corners. Within seconds Iruka was giving as good as he got. He hooked his arms around Kakashi's neck, securing him at the right angle to match stroke for stroke, caress for caress with his tongue, gasp for gasp until they were both almost sobbing with want.

Kakashi's hospital issue yukata started to slip off one shoulder, but he didn't care, it was the perfect moment to shed his clothing. This was everything he'd hoped for, and more. Just as he'd expected the man was as passionate as he was beautiful. He could hear his pounding heart, matching beat for beat the one sending hot blood racing throughout his own body, far too much of it to the lower regions to be comfortable. He slipped a hand low between them, letting it trace a slow and agonisingly exquisite path up the other's inner thigh.

Suddenly Iruka pushed him away and stood, hair tousled, head bowed, his right hand still gripping a pale muscular shoulder.

"No, please. I…"

Hatake Kakashi didn't give up so easily. He dotted a line of kisses across Iruka's scar, rejoicing at the catch in his target's breath as he closed his eyes and involuntarily leaned in again. Ah how he wanted to see those eyes clenched tight and teary. And that mouth drawn open wide, baring his teeth as he choked out little barks of pleasure.

"Be honest with yourself Iruka-sensei, isn't this the real reason you're here?"

Iruka's eyes flashed open. He stared back, but there was no denial this time.

Kakashi remained silent, listening to the sound of Iruka breathing, ragged barely controlled sucks and gasps, forming an impenetrable barrier of nothing and everything. He resisted the impulse to throw back his head and laugh. This was just too precious.

"Do I frighten you Iruka-sensei?"

But it was Iruka who laughed. His whole body shaking with the force of his explosive chuckle before relaxing into a smile, that warm, mischievous, mysterious, wonderful smile.

"No Hatake-san. Not frighten, but you do make me feel strange… nervous."

Kakashi nipped his earlobe gently and traced the tip of his tongue around the grooves of his ear before whispering into it.

"Then that's good. There's no need, I promise I'd never hurt you."

In one quick movement Iruka had reversed their positions so that Kakashi was pressed back against the wall. He could feel the cold rough texture of the stone through his thin garment, even as Iruka twisted and flung himself against it beside him, panting, as if the effort had exhausted him. Kakashi could hear the thunder of his heart from two feet away, above the splashing water of the fountain.

"Ok I…I'll do it. That is… I'll find your book."

He stooped to pick up his hair tie, bowed stiffly, then turned to hurry out of the courtyard.

Kakashi let the wall support his weight as he watched him walk away, a glint of appreciation barely registering in his visible eye.

"Yes Sensei, you'll do it."

Next time.


	3. A Taste of Moonlight

A/N Ok, so this little ficlet wasn't complete after all. But it is now! Sometimes these things are just determined to be trilogies so I caved and added a third part. It's fairly lemony, so read at your own risk. This is where the fic REALLY earns its M rating, you have been warned. If this kind of thing isn't to your taste then now would be a good time to leave. The author takes no responsibility for clothing and other items soiled by nose bleeds and other… well I'm sure you get the idea.

And… if you'd like to make a comment I'd be delighted to hear from you, if you'd sooner keep your opinions to yourself then that's perfectly ok too. Now on to part III, enjoy!

A Taste of Moonlight.

The silver-haired shinobi woke with a start, a fraction of a second before he actually heard the rap on his front door. He cracked open an eye and frowned at the gathering dusk that had filled his apartment with gloom and shadows.

Damn, he'd fallen asleep on his couch again. And he'd thought he was past that already. Adjusting his mask, he ghosted across the sparsely furnished space with grace that a man who'd just woken from a deep sleep had no right to possess, flipped on the light and opened the door.

And there stood Umino Iruka, blushing prettily and clutching a small orange book against his chest tight enough to wrinkle the stiff fabric of his jacket.

"Ah… Kakashi-sensei, I er…" He extended an arm, proffering the book, still held in a deathgrip. "I finally tracked it down. But you see you'd already left the hospital so…"

Kakashi could feel the teacher's eyes on his lips. They burned. The heated gaze penetrated his mask, igniting a chain reaction of tingles that spread in a delicious wave, a tsunami of anticipation, until it had invaded every nerve and every fibre of his being.

Without a second thought he yanked at the dark covering, letting it settle into soft folds at his throat.

Iruka's eyes remained fixed on their target as he sucked in a breath. And Kakashi felt more than heard the slight tremble when he released it several seconds later. He didn't need to be a genius to know that Umino Iruka's mere presence on his doorstep, and that tiny shudder, had said more than any breathless confession ever could.

He had come to him… again.

There was a click from the door closing, and before he'd had time to realize it, Iruka had been pulled inside. He hopped and almost tripped as he kicked off his shoes at the threshold.

Kakashi suppressed a snicker, ah yes this was a rare one, sticking to proprieties even at a time like this. But that was good, the most tightly wound spring was the one that would uncoil fastest, and offer the biggest kick.

A moment later Iruka was seated on an overstuffed couch. It was pale green, patterned with pointed leaves (or were they kunai), with Kakashi at the other end facing him and flicking through the pages of his book.

Tension crackled between them like sparks from a chidori.

"So… did you read it?"

A new blush, deeper than its predecessor, spread over the chuunin's cheeks.

"No! Of course not. I… I would never…"

Kakashi's lips twisted into a half smile. "I'm teasing Iruka-sensei."

But the look in that one blue eye _wasn't_ a tease. It was dark. And deadly serious.

There was a beat, a brief moment of hesitation.

Kakashi heard Iruka swallow.

They both pounced together, meeting in the middle of the couch in a tangle of limbs. Two pairs of desperate hands and two sets of hungry lips sought out slivers of bare skin, leaving hair disheveled and shirts askew.

"Bed?"

A dark ponytail bobbed in agreement and they were through the open bedroom door, rumpling the shuriken print cover on the large bed.

Iruka slipped off his jacket and dropped it onto the floor.

It was all the permission Kakashi needed to strip him of everything else. The memory of a hard body pressed against a wall, of soft hair and softer breath, was swept aside by the reality of naked skin, dusky in the remains of half-light and the first dim glimmers of the rising moon.

Gods! He was afraid the sight would finish him right then and there. He moved to shed his clothes just as fast but was held back by strong hands at his waist.

"No. Please, let me, I've been imagining this for… well, for a while."

Ok… that was an attractive option too. Kakashi took a deep restraining breath and closed his eyes.

Iruka's hands slipped under his shirt and slowly, much too slowly, traveled over the hard plane of his stomach, the harder cage of his chest, and the sinewy muscles of his lower arms. He could feel the press of each finger, the mounds and hollows of both palms as they explored upwards, gathering and tugging fabric as they went. The cool evening air chilled his exposed skin. But that wasn't what was giving him gooseflesh, or what was making him breathe so fast that he was starting to feel dizzy.

As he felt his shirt and headband tugged off he opened his eyes, to see Iruka looking at him. Not just looking, but looking with the kind of lust that he'd only read about in his books.

The teacher licked his lips. "Kakashi. You… you're…"

Then his hands were diving below his waistband.

"What other treasures do you keep covered up Kakashi-sensei?"

He raised his hips to let Iruka ease off the loose sweats he'd been lounging in, leaving him bare.

And exposing the part Iruka had been longing to see ever since he'd first seen Kakashi's face. It was dark at the tip, fading to a paler monochrome, nested in a pillow of curls, ash white against silver skin in the faint shreds of light from the half moon that was now chinning itself above the Konoha skyline.

"Beautiful."

Iruka had taken the word from his mouth.

Kakashi scanned broad shoulders, a firm chest, narrow waist, and the most droolworthy goodies he'd seen in a long time. The other man had more hair than he did, a clean stripe of black from navel to groin, ending in soft black fur.

And Cupid himself couldn't come armed with a more delectable dart.

Kakashi was disturbed from his musings by a breathy whisper in his ear. "Where's the lube?"

"Lube? You want me to… "

The nerves at his core clenched into a tight knot. Yes of course he did, all the way. That _had_ been the promise left unsaid in the damp air of the hospital garden.

And as that thought was percolating into his consciousness, Kakashi realized with stark horror that drained the joy of living from his very bones, that he did not, as it happened, have any lube.

In fact, despite his well cultivated hentai reputation, he rarely indulged in carnal pleasures, other than his books and his own vivid imagination. And he had not been tempted to entertain an actual flesh and blood partner for some time.

His mind raced through contents of his apartment for suitable substitutes.

"Oil, in the kitchen. In the fridge."

Iruka crawled off the bed and headed towards the door.

Kakashi flicked on a lamp to light his way, watching the dance of dust motes caught in its golden beam, admiring the flex and roll of golden buttocks, tight and hard enough to bounce a kunai off.

Ah… but he was planning on using a much blunter weapon.

And then Iruka was back, sliding onto the bed, killing the light, and pressing a cold glass bottle into his hand. It was already weeping droplets of condensation as if it was sweating out its anticipation along with him.

"Sesame oil? It's got a very strong flavour."

There was a barely suppressed chuckle. "Kakashi, you may exceptionally well hung but I doubt that I'll be able to taste it."

Iruka tracked his eyes along the evidence.

Then he laughed out loud. They both laughed, throwing their heads back, clutching at each others quivering sides, sucking in harsh gasps of air, both reaching for the bottle as they tried not to spill it.

And suddenly it was much more than just sex.

They kissed, nibbling, tasting, sucking, stoking the need that rolled off them in waves. Cold oil drizzled onto overheated skin and the musky nutty scent of sesame filled the room, along with the muskier smell of aroused male bodies and the faint night odour of clean sheets.

Iruka lay back and spread his thighs, clutching at air with his fists as Kakashi slid one oil-slick hand between them, massaging Iruka's tight sensitive tissue, probing and stretching, teasing his inner membranes. All the while making him hiss and groan with his other well oiled hand.

Kakashi was aware of everything, every star starting to glitter in the sky, every nocturnal rustling of every bird roosting in the trees beyond his windows, every spider hanging crouched in the corners of him room, even the roiling turmoil of every molecule crashing a Brownian path in the air between them. And then it all collapsed into a laser focus on the shivers and sighs and unspoken pleadings of the man beneath him.

They were ready, no more teasing, no more foreplay, as if a signal that only they could hear had sounded out its note. They both held their breath as he took the final step to join their bodies. Iruka squirmed to adjust his position, whether from discomfort or impatience he couldn't tell, but it didn't really matter. There was no holding back now. Kakashi maintained the same rhythm with his hand, feeling his lips curve into a smile at the jolts and keening noises he was getting in response. As he caressed that sweet spot over and over.

Yes, it _was_ much more than sex.

Their perfect fit, their perfect tempo, each completing an aching void that he'd been vaguely aware of since the first time Iruka had been dragged haltingly into his personal space. Flames of pleasure licked from the tight nexus of heat between and within them, sucking in oxygen until their breathing was reduced to harsh ragged pants. Iruka came first, choking out his open mouthed orgasm with a strangled cry. Then Kakashi released his last tiny vestige of control with a grunt and a gasp. Spilling his seed so deep within the other's body that he almost suspected that Iruka might taste it after all.

Kakashi collapsed in a boneless slump, feeling a distant sense of guilt over the discomfort his full weight must be causing. But he had no choice, and Iruka didn't seem to mind. In fact he pulled him closer by winding his arms around him. Their two hearts hammered against the frail barriers of flesh between them, as if each was trying to force its way into the other's chest. Time hovered in the distance until their breathing slowed and each of them re-established his own centre.

Eventually the messy film of liquids sandwiched between them began to register. Kakashi rolled over and off the bed, dragging his softened cock from its willing home and drawing a fresh line of semen and oil over Iruka's thigh, to cool along with the film of sweat that was already there. He staggered into his bathroom and snatched up the closest towel. He'd be a poor host to leave his guest lying in a puddle of cold spooge, the very least he could do was to blot him dry with the kind of care afforded a precious work of art.

But damn, now he was tired again. Bone tired. After cleaning himself he stretched onto his side and let his eyes drift over the beautiful creature that had fallen into his life.

Well at least this time he had a decent excuse.

"I… I suppose I should go." Iruka rolled up and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his pants.

Kakashi snaked an arm around his waist. He didn't want him to go, _really _didn't want him to go. He didn't want this to be 'it', didn't want this perfect evening to end. Ever. There was a tendril of dread threading into his heart at the idea of being left alone in the cold moonlight.

"You're welcome to stay… the night. That is if you want to."

Iruka lay back down then rolled over so that their faces were just inches apart, puffing soft breath onto pale skin with each word.

"I wish I could. I mean I want to, I'd love to, but I promised Naruto…"

"Of course. Naruto."

"Maybe next time?"

Kakashi brushed back a stray lock of dark hair then let his hand trail down the teacher's cheek and strong jaw. His lips parted in a rare genuine smile, one that only a handful of others had ever seen.

So Iruka _was _planning on a next time. Good.

"I knew I'd have you Iruka, the third time you came to me."

There was a small explosion of happy laughter and in an instant Iruka was on his knees above him in a position of dominance, trapping his hands on either side of his head. The chuunin leaned down to brush his lips against his forehead, the tip of his nose, and to claim those kiss swollen lips one more time.

And then he was fully dressed and leaving, already almost out of the bedroom door when he turned back, a glint of mockery dancing in his eyes in the moonlight.

"Kakashi-sensei… you know perfectly well that you had me the first time."


End file.
